Don't Speak
by Carlos.J
Summary: Sometimes there are no words, but sometimes, there doesn't need to be.


**A/N: Hi! This came out of nowhere, but I think it might have something to do with my brain needing some time away from my other ongoing fics. (But not for long)**

**I really wanted to explore the breakdown of Serena's marriage to Edward in a different way rather than simply through an explosive bust-up.**

**I'd really love your feedback on this, as I've gone for a slightly different approach with regards to the lack of speech, involving more ****_feelings_****. I'm not sure whether there will be other chapters, it depends on how it's received I suppose!**

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**Chapter 1**

Allowing her bag to drop to the floor with a _thunk_, Serena turned and left the room, rushing to the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her and kneeling in front of the toilet, she felt her body begin to heave as she felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. She heard someone knocking lightly on the door, pleading with her to come out, but she couldn't move. She felt frozen to the spot, afraid that if she did move, her life would shatter around her. She kept her focus in front of her, noticing a small pink hair-band tucked behind the toilet...no doubt the one that they'd spent the morning looking for. Taking deep breaths and wiping her cheeks, she stood and went over to the mirror. Noticing the bags under her eyes, she wondered when the last time she'd had a decent night's sleep was. Unable to remember, she splashed some cold water onto her face, relishing the feeling of alertness it gave her. She leant on the sink, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. Maybe if she didn't go out there, maybe it wouldn't be real. If she could hide in here long enough, maybe it would all go away. As much as she wanted that to be the truth, she knew what was waiting for her on the other side of the door. Sighing and pulling herself up straight, she marched over to the door and wrenched it open, heading swiftly down the stairs.

Entering the living room where she had witnessed the heinous act, she couldn't see him anywhere. Moving through to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water, noticing her hands were shaking. Sipping the water slowly, she held on to the edge of the sink tightly, unsure of what she would do next. Turning around, she saw him enter the kitchen and close the door behind him, looking at the floor. She remained silent, watching him and sipping her water. She felt so many feelings bubbling away at that moment, she didn't know which one would come to the surface first. He took a step towards her and she held up her hand to stop him, turning back to the sink so she had her back to him. How could he do this? How could this be happening? Taking a breath, she felt his hand on her lower back and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he would just leave. She worried she didn't have the strength to confront him...all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, telling her everything would be alright. She felt him step closer, pressing against her, wrapping his arms around her. She could smell it...she could smell _her_. Wrenching herself from his grasp, she headed for the door and turned back, shaking her head as she left the room.

Reaching the stairs, she dropped onto the first step and put her head in her hands. She heard him coming towards her and sighed inwardly as he sat beside her, reaching for her hand and refusing to let go. She couldn't look at him, choosing instead to stare at the edge of carpet in front of her, seeing where it had begun to fray along the skirting-board. She felt him squeeze her hand softly and heard his breath catch. Glancing to her right she saw tears spilling down his cheeks as he bent forwards and raised her hand to his forehead. She looked away, feeling her own eyes welling as tears began to trail down her own cheeks. Was it the realisation that their marriage had most likely ended, or was it the fact they knew they had no one to blame but themselves? All she could do was sit there, holding her husband's hand, crying softly. She felt him turn to face her and reach a hand up to her cheek, turning her face towards him, his eyes red-rimmed and pleading. Closing her eyes for a moment, she sobbed as he stroked her cheek and brought her head towards his, kissing her gently and resting their foreheads together. She loved him, how could she not, he was her _husband_, the father of her child. She pulled away, releasing her grip on his hand and leaning against the wall, dejectedly. He had stopped crying, she noticed, but he made no move to leave.

"Serena..."

"Don't."

They continued to sit in silence, listening to the constant ticking of the hallway clock. Serena found some comfort in that one constant..._tick tick tick_. The fact he hadn't even attempted to dig his way out of this particular hole filled her with dread. Was there even anything left to fight for? She was constantly exhausted, returning home at all hours, hardly ever seeing her husband, never mind her daughter. When she _was_ home, he was either away with work, or too tired to do anything, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillow. Staring at the wall in front of her, she knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but she couldn't forgive what he had done...in _their_ home. The worst part was, although it hurt, she felt almost accepting of the fact it had happened. She felt glad that Eleanor was at Adrienne's tonight, or else things could have been a whole lot worse.

Standing up, she went into the living room, staring at the scattered cushions on the floor. Bending to retrieve them, she heard him enter the room behind her and she turned, throwing one of the larger cushions at his head. She felt gratification when it smacked him in the face and he stumbled backwards. How dare he, the selfish, unsupportive _cheat_. Picking up another, she threw that at him too, feeling annoyed when it missed. She looked around her and saw two wine glasses and a bottle on the table. Anger flaring inside her at the idea of the two of them drinking together, drinking her wine, using _her _glasses. She picked up a glass and threw it against the wall above his head. He ducked and covered his eyes as glass showered down around him. She reached out for the second one, doing the same and feeling a sense of release as she watched the glass erupt and rain down on him. As she turned to reach for the bottle, she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, holding her arms in place by her side. Struggling against him, it was only when he had turned her around and pulled her into a tight hug that she realised she was crying. Years and years of pent-up hurt, stress, hard-work and anger were making themselves felt as she clung onto him, sobbing into his chest. She could feel him crying against her as he buried his head in her hair, stroking her softly.

A while later, Serena realised they were sat on the floor, clinging onto one another as if their lives depended on it. As they parted, they sat staring at one another, feeling exhausted and emotionally drained. She looked into his eyes and saw the remorse and guilt present. Reaching out a hand to his cheek, she held it softly before dropping her hand into her lap and exhaling loudly, dropping her head. She opened her eyes as she registered the feeling of his hand at her chin, tilting her head upwards. Their eyes met, the windows to their broken hearts, filled with all the things they hadn't said to each other...things they knew they should.

"I'm sorry, Serena." he whispered, watching her heart break that little bit more.


End file.
